This Love
by 3chuckandblair3
Summary: After Bart Bass' funeral, Blair and Chuck's relationship changes. The games are over, and nothing will ever be the same. Spoiler Warning: This happy twosome may soon become a party of three.
1. I Felt a Funeral in my Brain

Blair's eyes blinked open, and the grey light of dawn hit her face. She put her hand up to her eyes to shield them, and waited for the black spots to disappear. She remembered only bits and pieces of the night before. The limousine ride home from the funeral, Chuck staring blankly out the window. He was supposed to ride alone, but she broke off from the others and slipped into his car as the door closed. She had touched his arm, wanting to help, not knowing how. He flinched at the light pressure of her fingers on the sleeve of his jacket, and she felt a dull stabbing at her heart to see him so broken. And then he had turned, slowly, a hunger behind the tears brimming is his eyes, and kissed her with more ferocity, and more pain than she had ever known. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he pawed at her coat, shrugging it off her shoulders. He pulled her to him, broad hands encircling her tiny waist. And she had pulled away. Because it shouldn't happen like this. He had looked at her blankly, and for once she couldn't read his face. When the limo stopped, he left without turning back, and she followed, shouting his name, her voice hoarse, her knees weak beneath her, still wobbling from the intensity of his touch. She didn't remember how they got up to his room, only remembered standing in the doorway silently, not knowing what to do with her hands as he sat on the bed, face buried in his hands, his body shaking with violent sobs. And after what felt like hours, he stood up, took her hand, flitting nervously around her waist, and told her. In a voice hoarse from crying, he looked into her eyes said those three words. Eight letters.


	2. Those Words

She looked over at the clock. 6:00am. She didn't remember the rest of the night. Only that he'd gone back to bed, exhausted, and fallen asleep. Only that she'd stood, still frozen by the door long after he was snoring. She didn't remember how she got to the bed, or when she decided not to go home. Only that she was there now beside him, their bodies bathed in the hesitant sunlight of the earliest hours, creeping in from the open window. She felt his arm draped over her, pulling her close in his sleep. _Love. He loved her._ And she didn't know what to say, still didn't know what to do, until she rolled over, slipping out from under the weight of his arm to look at him. His hair was too long, and she pushed it back off his forehead, tracing her finger down to his jaw line. The muscles of it flexed under her touch. She loved that jaw. He carried all of his tension there; ground his teeth in his sleep. She leaned down to kiss it gently, and worked her way to his mouth. _"I love you, Chuck Bass,"_ she whispered into his lips, which parted beneath hers. He opened his eyes, and Blair had to wonder if he'd been awake all along. _"I love you too, Blair," _he said, his voice groggy with sleep. "_Shh, Chuck. I know. Go back to sleep_." Blair rolled over so her back was to his chest, and snuggled close to the warm of his body. His arm found her waist again and wrapped tight around it, firm and comforting. Blair closed her eyes. _Chuck needed her. This was it. Bart Bass was dead, and the game Chuck and Blair had been playing receded as though it had never been. _


	3. Sunday Mornings

The next few days raced by, bittersweet and strange. She was careful around him, hesitant, waiting to see how he would react to every situation. He was stronger, reassured her with small gestures that he was okay. She caught him lost in thought, sometimes, staring out windows or examining his hands, and it was then that she'd slip up behind him and tell him again. _I love you, Chuck. _He also smiled more, in that week after his father's death, than she'd ever seen him smile before. He smiled at her as he watched her work on her college essays, her hair falling over her face. He smiled when she spontaneously reached out to hold his hand as they walked to school on his first day back, and he smiled when she asked with concern upon reaching the gate if he was sure he was ready.

"It's school, Blair. Not another funeral. I'll manage." And she had sighed with relief, tugged on his scarf, and pulled him in for another kiss before rushing off to her first class.

As the days went on, things returned to normal. Or, at least as normal as Blair imagined a relationship with Chuck would be if it had not blossomed in the shadow of death. Chuck had returned to his own suite after the funeral, but after a couple of days, Lily had insisted that he return to The Palace Hotel to live with her, Serena, and Eric. _After all, _she had said, _You're family. _It was hard for Chuck to watch Serena and Blair together, when Blair came over and it wasn't for him, giggling and doing homework, gossiping and trying on clothes, without storming in and pulling Blair away to his room so he could have her all to himself. But Sundays there was no Serena, no homework, no gossip, or parties, or shopping. Sunday was theirs. Sundays they spent in bed until noon, ate breakfast together, Chuck in his bathrobe, Blair in one of his nightshirts. He loved the way she looked in his clothing, so small, her skin glowing golden against the crisp wite. He loved the way her extended, stretched, long and graceful from beneath the short hem of his old clothing, and the way her lips formed a plump "O" when she ate the strawberries off her pancakes. He loved breakfast.


	4. Behind Closed Doors

He wanted to go to parties again after a while, have fun, and show her off. They ended up sitting in corners most of the time, him stroking her hair and planting kisses all over her face. Sometimes she'd break free and hold court among her girlfriends, only to have him wander over after a couple of drinks, place a hand on her thigh, and lead her away to an empty room. At Hazel's 18th birthday party, he'd gotten so drunk he could barely stand. He leaned on her as she dragged him into the closest bedroom, giggling, cheeks flushed with alcohol, hair loose from her up-do. She couldn't remember how many cocktails she'd had, and she didn't care, because Chuck was slurring _you're so beautiful, Blair_, in her ear over and over again. She maneuvered him on the bed, where he sat with a heavy thud, and sat facing him on his lap, her mouth covering his with kisses. She pulled back suddenly, wrinkling her nose. "You taste like scotch," she said, giggling again. "You taste delicious," he countered, pulling her closer. She pushed against his chest gently, and got off his lap. She lay down on the bed, her body sprawled over the white linen. "I'm tired," she said. "Let's just sleep." Her eyes fluttered closed. She was teasing him, and even drunk as he was, he knew it. He fell back on the bed, lying next to her, and stayed still for a moment before rolling sideways so he lay flat on top of her. Their faces were inches apart, and they stayed that way, looking into each other's eyes before he ducked down to kiss her, hesitantly at first, like he had that first time in the limo, and then harder, with more confidence. She rolled him over so she was on top, and then sat up, straddling him as she lifted her dress over her head. He placed his hands on her waist, ran his them up her sides to unhook her bra, admiring the view from below. She shifted her weight so he could slide out of his pants, and made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. He sat up so they were facing each other, and her legs folded around his waist. He moved his hand up to caress her breasts. She caught his mouth with hers, and moaned sighs of pleasure into it. When she couldn't stand it any longer, she slid off her lacy black underwear, and pressed against his erection. He slipped one finger inside of her, then two, pumping slowly, then faster as she moistened to accept him. She threw her head back, and he kissed her slender neck. He brought her to the brink, then pulled his hand away. _Don't stop, _she moaned, burying her head in his neck, smelling the scotch and cigarette smell that always lingered on his skin. He gently flipped her, and rolled on top of her, entering her slowly. He paused before he began, resting for a moment inside of her. _I love you, Blair_, he whispered in her ear. She moaned in response, too close to even say it back. He began thrusting, and she bucked in time to his motions. He liked to watch her while they made love, reveled in the contortions of her face, the gleam of sweat that formed on her cheeks. She came first, her body shaking with pleasure, and he followed, collapsing, exhausted, on top of her. He lay, liking the feel of her warm, naked body beneath his, until he felt her struggling to push him off. "You're crushing me," she said with a laugh. He shifted his weight so he was lying close by her side. They lay for a couple of minutes before he reluctantly got up to get dressed, collecting her clothing off the floor and tossing over to her so they could make a respectable exit from the party.


	5. History Repeats Itself

_They hadn't used protection._ It hit her about a week later, suddenly, and for no reason at all. He usually had condoms on hand, even spur of the moment. But they had been so drunk – the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. She was terrified to tell him, couldn't even bring it up no matter how many times she planned to. The words caught in her throat, and he'd look at her with such a curious expression that she'd have to make an excuse so the wrinkles between his brows would relax and he'd give her that mischievous smile. Finally, she decided it was best to wait. Wait for the missed period. Wait for the blue stripes on the stick. No need to scare him unnecessarily. She had to tell someone, though, and she chose Serena. Serena who never paid for her mistakes, who had it all together, who was going to get into Yale, and who would never get accidentally pregnant. Serena who had sacrificed her reputation to buy Blair a pregnancy test the last time this had happened, and who had held Blair's hand tight and then laughed with relief when the stick showed up negative. Their phone call went the pretty much the same as last time. Only this time Serena's disbelief wasn't that Blair who had just broken up with Nate was sleeping with anyone at all. It was that responsible, perfectionist Blair had let this happen _again_. Blair held back tears as her best friend's voice over the phone repeated over and over again, _B, how could you? _Serena was at Blair's apartment within fifteen minutes, pacing back and forth by the closet as Blair sat on her bed, head hung, like a child about to be chastised by her mother. Finally, when Serena was done pacing, she picked up her coat from where she had tossed it on the floor, grabbed Blair's hand, and dragged her, unwilling, from the room.

"We're going to pick you up a pregnancy test, B." She looked pointedly back at her best friend who was still lagging behind. "_Together_, this time." Blair stopped dead in her tracks.

"Serena, I can't!" she said, her voice reaching an octave above it's normally melodic tambre. She could feel herself getting annoying, being unreasonable, but she thought that was appropriate, given the situation.

"Yes, B. You can do this. You'll pick it up quickly, I'll be on the lookout for freshman with camera phones, and I'll take down anyone who snaps a picture of you." She stopped, grabbing her friend's hand protectively. "C'mon, Blair. No one will know."

"It's not that!" Blair said, pulling her hand away and clutching it to her chest. "It's not about gossip girl, or people finding out that I bought the test. It's just – " her voice broke, and tears spilled down her cheeks, making crystal rivers in the ivory of her skin. "I can't, Serena – I can't know. Not if it's positive. I don't want to know."

They were back in Blair's bathroom before she knew it, and she was perched on the cool marble of her bathtub. Serena stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "Do it, Blair," she said for the fourth time. Blair stared at her own reflection in the mirrored medicine cabinet where she had stashed the plastic stick before it could give a response either way. Her eyes ran over the usually flushed cheeks, now white with fear, the always immaculate brown waves in disarray. She counted back in her head from ten, got up slowly, opened the medicine cabinet with force that was a bit excessive. It swung back hard against the marble of her wall, the sound echoing in the cavernous room. The test was facing her, sitting impotently on a shelf level with her eyes, and she didn't even have to pick it up to see the reading clearly. _Pregnant._


	6. The Fallout

Blair skipped school the next day, and the next, feigning illness. She was inconsolable. Chuck would leave her. She knew this beyond a shadow of doubt, believed it with more conviction than she'd ever held in her life. Her mother would be so disappointed, the girls at school so secretly pleased to witness her fall from grace. And then there was Yale. She'd have to give up her dreams of Yale – of any college education. And then, her thoughts would linger back to Chuck, and Yale, and the girls at school, and her mother mattered not at all. He would leave her. She'd have to get rid of the baby before he knew. Of that she was sure. But then she'd think about the thing growing inside her, living off of the food she ate, and the blood that coursed through her veins. She imagined a boy with Chuck's eyes, and Chuck's smile, and she couldn't bring herself to make an appointment at Planned Parenthood. Serena was supportive, coming to visit her afterschool, talking in hushed whispers about Blair's "options." Blair hated her options. Serena would be supportive no matter what. She reminded Blair of this over, and over, and over again. She had ignored Chuck's calls for three days. She didn't know what to say to him, how she could look at him without breaking down, the truth overflowing from her lips. And then it would be over for them. He would act supportive at first, maybe, but gradually he'd slip away from her. Chuck didn't do responsibility. Chuck couldn't feel trapped. On the fourth day, she lay in her bed, body heavy with the weight of what was growing inside of her. She swore she could feel it moving sometimes, although it had only been a couple of weeks. She lay her hand protectively over her stomach, trying the feel the small bulge emerging in the smooth plane of her torso. There was a knock at the door, and Dorota's concerned voice on the other side. _"Miss Blair! Mr. Chuck here to see you!" _Blair sat up suddenly, her hand flying from her middle. Chuck entered, breezing past Dorota and slamming the door in her face. Blair looked on, eyes wide, betraying the guilt she felt. Chuck wheeled around, fire in his eyes.

"Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?" He said, his voice shaking with fury. "You aren't answering my calls or my texts. Serena says you don't want to talk to me - " he broke off, his dark eyes softening. "Do you not want to be together anymore?" Blair stared unblinkingly at him, caught off guard by his tirade. Chuck shifted, embarrassed. He sat down slowly on the bed next to her and stroked her hair, then let his hand fall down to her back and rubbed it gently. "Please tell me what's wrong, Blair. I'm fucking terrified by the way you're looking at me right now." He was so close to her, and his broad hand felt so warm through her thin nightgown. Her resolve broke, came crashing down like a flooded dam. Tears spilled over her cheeks, and she blinked through them as Chuck's face fell into a mask of horror. She shook her head, trying to start over, trying to erase what had become of the conversation. She didn't want him to be scared, or confused, but she couldn't bear to make herself clear. To tell him the truth. And then, with a deep breath, and one last look into his chocolate eyes before everything changed, she came out with it.

"Chuck, I'm so sorry. I'm pregnant." She hid her face in her hands then, too scared to see how he'd react. His hand stopped making slow circles on her back, and froze just between her shoulder blades. The room was silent, and she strained to hear his breathing. She peeked out from between her hands to make sure he was alive. He was staring at her, brows furrowed, gaze intense, as always. She looked at him meekly for what felt like an eternity. After a while, his mouth began to move helplessly as he struggled for something to say. An anguished "_Blair_" was all he could manage. Her name was thick and heavy in his throat. He pulled her to him with more force than he'd ever used with her, rocking her tightly and kissing the top of her head. She didn't know what this meant, but she was so relieved that he hadn't left, or cursed or yelled, that she let out a heavy breath, a new blanket of tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Chuck," she said again, sobbing into his broad chest. And then, "I can't get rid of it." She knew all of a sudden, that she had made her decision. "I just can't do it. I thought I could – I planned to, but I just can't." She squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting his protests. He grabbed her shoulders tightly and pulled her off his chest so he was looking into her eyes at arm's length. "Blair, are you crazy?" he said, his voice deep and authoritative again. Blair opened her mouth to reply, but she could think of no justification. How could she tell him about the boy in her dreams with his devious smile, his glowing eyes? Chuck filled the silence for her. "C'mon Waldorf," he said, trying to inject some lightness into his voice. "Do you really think I'd ever let you get rid of a baby that's ours?" Blair stared at him, open mouthed, her body frozen in shock at his response. He let out a stifled laugh, letting the tension in his chest out in a strained huff of breath. "I'm scared as hell, but this is _our_ baby. _Ours_. We made it." He laughed again, and this time it was less forced. "Oh my god," he said slowly. "I'm going to be a father." His voice broke at the last word. Blair collapsed onto his chest, exhausted by the strain of the day, relieved and terrified at the outcome of the conversation she'd dreaded having for what felt like an eternity. "You really want to do this?" she said, her voice high and strained. Chuck looked at her with that confused gaze again. "I sure as hell wouldn't have planned for it," he said, the usual hardness returning to his voice. His steely gaze softened when he saw the look on her face. "But it's kind of amazing, too." She smiled a little. Amazing. She hadn't thought of it that way "Plus, Blair, it's us." He picked up her quivering hand and stroked it protectively. "We can do anything."


	7. Won't Hurt a Bit

**If you're reading, you need to be reviewing…good, bad, I don't care just give me some feedback!!**

**XOXO **

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The days passed in a blur, and Blair was amazed at how fast she got used to the idea that she was pregnant. Chuck, on the other hand, seemed to realize anew each day. He started showing up at her apartment on weekends, walking her home after school and then staying in her room to do homework until her mother came in and gave him meaningful "go home, Chuck" looks. It made Blair smile that all it took was one look from Eleanor and Chuck, her Chuck, who didn't care what anyone though, would scramble for his books and hurry out the door. When they weren't studying, they were talking, always talking, about what to do about the baby – when to tell. Serena was always reminding Blair that people would know soon enough, whether or not Blair told. When Blair was three months along, Chuck surprised her by scheduling an appointment with Dr. Alison Hill, a well-known OBGYN. Blair was responsible. Blair was organized. And yet with all of the excitement and the panic over her pregnancy, it had never even occurred to her to see a doctor. But Chuck had remembered. She loved it when he surprised her.

Blair lay on the table, cold blue goo spread out over the small hill of her stomach. She was showing surprisingly little. She had invested in a wardrobe full of billowy blouses, and they covered her mid section so well that her mother hadn't even slyly commented that she'd put on weight. Dr. Hill slid a cold, plastic wand over her body, eyes glued to the screen next to her. Blair, too watched the screen, waiting for a baby to appear. She glanced over at Chuck to see if he was looking, but his eyes were glued to her. She rolled her eyes at him, motioning for him to look at the screen, and he smiled infuriatingly, his gaze unwavering.

"Looks like we have something," Dr. Hill said, her voice bright, as she slowed the plastic wand and brought it to a stop. Blair's breath caught in her throat. The image on the screen was grainy, but she could make out the outline of a fetus – its body was tiny, curled up into a ball, its head large and alien-like. It was beautiful. Tears filled her eyes. This was a baby. _Her _baby – a life that was growing inside of her. She looked up to meet Chuck's eyes again, but they were on the screen now, his mouth open in awe.

"That's my son," he said, turning to Blair slowly. He picked up her hand, squeezing it so tightly that she had flex it to loosen his grip. "I'm going to be that boy's _father_," he said, shaking his head. Dr. Hill smiled. "I'll give you two a moment." When she left, Chuck knelt down so his face was level with Blair's on the flat, hospital-style bed. He pressed his lips to her cheek, and made his way up her face, peppering her eyes, her nose, her forehead with kisses. "A father!" he laughed. "I'm going to say things like 'Son, time for bed' and 'Chuck Jr., I'm very proud of you.' " He stopped, eyes dreamy. "I'm going to be a good dad," he said quietly, so at first Blair wasn't sure she had heard right. "No I'm going to be a great dad. I'm not going to be like - " he stopped, and Blair sat up, her hospital gown falling down over her swollen belly.

"You _are_ going to be great," she said, pulling his face to hers, kissing him passionately. "You're going to be…" she searched for the right word. "Amazing." Chuck smiled against her lips, and turned back to the image of the baby on the screen.

"So what if it turns out to be a girl?" Blair said suddenly, eyes fixed on the little image before her. Chuck turned around, eyebrows pulled together in concern, like the thought had never occurred to him before.

"A girl?" he said with a sneer. "It's going to be a _Bass_, Blair. Can you really imagine a Bass _female_?" Blair shrugged. It could be a monkey for all she cared. It was her's and Chuck's. A smile spread across her face as she thought the words to herself again. Chuck stood up, annoyed by her smug silence. "I wouldn't know what to do with a girl, anyway. I couldn't give her advice, or tell her what to wear. No. It's definitely a boy," he said, the worried look on his face betraying the deep confidence that rang in his baritone. Dr. Hill entered, then, smiling as always.

"So do we want to know the sex?" she asked, unaware of the irony of her question.

"Yes," Chuck responded at the same time Blair said "No." Chuck wheeled around.

"Waldorf, are you kidding me? I can't wait six months to find out."

"Chuck." Blair said slowly, her lips pulled into a tight, fake smile. "Will you be giving birth to this baby? Will you be sacrificing your body, and your social standing and your physical comfort?" Chuck glared at her, and then turned to the doctor, whose smile had fallen, her face frozen in a mixture of surprise and horror. It was all Chuck could do not to laugh. This woman obviously didn't know how Blair operated. "We will be opting _not_ to know the gender of our baby," he said, his voice sugary. Blair glowed.

That night, Blair was sitting in her room, thinking of baby names. Holly or Audrey was too cliché. Blair junior was just downright tacky. She tried flipping through a baby name book, but she only got halfway through the A's before she stopped, bored. She moved on to boys. Chuck would probably advocate for Charles Jr. A mini Chuck would be nice, sweet even, but she didn't know if she could get past associating the name with the boy who made her body buzz with electricity every time he looked at her. She thought about the names of her favorite male actors. Cary (Grant)…too girly on anyone but him. Clark (Gable)...reminded her too much of Superman's Clark Kent. Gary (Cooper)…too ordinary. Her phone buzzed and she turned to it, sighing. She'd have to talk to Chuck about names later. Maybe he'd have some ideas. She glanced down at her phone. An alert from gossip girl. She hit "open," sill thinking about baby names, only half interested. She froze at the picture that came on the screen, and it took her brain a couple of seconds to register the image, before her head started to spin. It was she and Chuck on the corner outside of the OBGYN's office. The sign was clear in the background. He had his arm around her waist, and was smiling at her, midsentence. Her arm was outstretched to hail a cab. The caption below read: _**Looks like Queen B's with child – and it's not exactly prince charming that's given Blair her heir. **_


	8. Revealed

**Please Read and Review!! Any suggestions for where the story should go, comments, criticism, is all appreciated! 3 xoxo gg**

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Blair was still sitting at her desk, staring at the picture in disbelief when her phone buzzed again. _Serena_. Anyone else and she would have let it ring.

"Please tell me I just dreamed the latest Gossip Girl blast," Blair groaned into the phone without bothering to say hello. "B, I'm so sorry," Serena said, her voice strained. "Jenny saw it on Gossip Girl, and she told Eric, who ran home to ask me if it was true, and -" she paused. "My mom heard, B. And she told your mom." Blair was silent. "I begged her not to," Serena added, her voice a pleading whine. "B, I'm so, so sorry. But it was bound to come out some time." At this Blair sprung up from her desk.

"It was bound to come out some time, Serena? Really, is that all you have?" She was shrieking now: "I was going to plan what to say – how to explain to my mother, to the girls at school! And now Eleanor will be home in _three hours_!" She paused – "actually, come to think of it, she's probably on her way home right now to ground me for life. So do you want to tell me that everything is okay, or do you want to tell me what the hell to do?" Serena was silent, and Blair could hear her steady breathing on the other line. Blair hung up.

Blair was still frozen at her desk when the knock came at her door. It was quiet, hesitant. She didn't answer. The door opened a crack and she could see Dorota's tear-stained face peeking in. "Ms. Blair - " she began softly, her voice hoarse. There was a scuffling sound from behind Dorota, and the door was shoved open to reveal Eleanor, towering over the housekeeper, her face glowing with rage. Dorota walked backwards, leaving space for Eleanor to slide through, but her eyes were still glued to Blair. They were red and puffy from crying. Eleanor marched through the doorway, and then turned around, and slammed the door in Dorota's tear-stained face. Blair was staring at her mother now, who stood above her, hands clasped together in front of her, quivering with anger and the strain of not talking. She didn't want to talk first. Blair knew this well enough. She hadn't gotten in trouble many times, but when she did, it was always the same. A face off to see who would crack first. It was never Blair. Eleanor sighed, and unclasped her hands, letting them fall limply to her sides.

"Blair, please tell me it's not true." Her eyes were hard, but beneath them was a pleading, a softness, and Blair could see the hope there – the hope that this was all a misunderstanding. But it wasn't, and her mother knew that.

Blair thought about her options, turning them over in her head while her mother waited with that hope burning behind her wide brown eyes. She could apologize, cry, until her mother rocked her in her lap and told her it would be okay. She needed that – god, she needed that. But if she cried, admitted how irresponsible and stupid she had been, her mother would only go on the offensive, telling her that she _had_ been stupid, and she _was_ ruining her own life and the lives of her family. No, the only option was to be defiant, to act like she'd done nothing wrong, to go in with guns blazing.

"It is true, mother," she said, working to keep her voice steady. "And frankly I don't see how you can be angry with me about it. It's my life, and it's my decision." The hope behind Eleanor's eyes was gone, and Blair shrank back at the pure fury that replaced it. Eleanor's hands were in the air now, motioning furiously, running through her hair, holding her head in disbelief.

"You don't see how it's my business?" she said, her voice escalating to a shriek. "You are MY daughter living in MY house, and you are THROWING AWAY your future!" Blair blinked. She hadn't thought far enough ahead to come up with a response. Eleanor sat down then, falling back on the bed, and put her face in her hands. "I'm so ashamed to tell people." Her words were muffled by her palms, but Blair heard them clearly. Her first instinct was rage – this had nothing to do with Eleanor's friends or business associates. This was her _life,_ and she shouldn't have to make decisions based on what people might think. But the steely resolve in her chest softened as fast as it had appeared. In the beginning, when she had almost given up the baby, it hadn't been because she didn't want it. It had been because she was terrified of what people would think – of what her friends would say. She got up and sat down next to her mother on the bed, resting a hesitant hand on her curled back.

"There's nothing that could make me give up this baby, mother. I know that it's going to be hard. I know that. But this is my _child_ we're talking about. I would endure _anything_ for it." She paused, suddenly realizing the enormous truth in what she was saying. She let it wash over her, and continued with more conviction. "I would give up my life for this baby, mother. And what am I being asked to give up, really? Some sleep? A chance to go to Yale?" Her voice almost broke on the last word. "Chuck – he has enough money to take care of us. This baby will be better off than most babies in America. And he's going to be a good father, he's so excited, he – " Eleanor sat up abruptly at this, causing Blair to pause in surprise. For a second, she thought she saw softness in her mother's eyes, and then it was gone, replaced by the ice-cold stare she was used to.

"Chuck will not stay with you," Eleanor said, acid in her voice. "Do you think he loves you?" She laughed, a cold, thin sound. "I know his kind! He'd be bored within the year even if you weren't going to balloon up like a whale." Blair felt the blood drain from her face, but she was unable to respond. "I give it a month," Eleanor continued. "That boy will be out of your life before the baby is even born." Her eyes narrowed. "Your father was kind and caring and wonderful. _Nothing_ like Chuck. An he left me. Mark my words, Blair Waldorf. That boy will leave you." She got up slowly, and then spun on her heel. She slammed the door on her way out, and the walls of the room reverberated with the hollow sound. Blair couldn't get up, couldn't scream after her. She choked on her tears, unaware of when they had started to flow, and tried hard to breathe through the pain in her chest. When Dorota came in – it could have been an hour, it could have been a minute – Blair was still sitting on her bed, shaking. Dorota approached the girl gingerly, then sat down all at once, wrapping her arms tightly around Blair.

"I come before to tell you that this is not right. This is against god." Blair wrapped her arms around her legs, curling into a tighter ball. She didn't want to hear this. Dorota pulled back, unwrapping her arms from around Blair. "Ms. Blair, god does not like this. But you should not give up this child. You will be a good mother." Blair didn't look up, but she could feel the pride in Dorota's voice. Dorota, who had raised her. Dorota, who had loved her as her mother should have. Blair buried her head in her knees. The tears slowed, but didn't stop. Dorota got up to go, and then turned at the door. "And Ms. Blair?" she said, softly. Blair looked up, and saw the concern in Dorota's eyes. "I see how Mr. Chuck looks at you. Ms. Eleanor, she know nothing." And with that she was gone, leaving Blair staring, stunned, at the doorway.


	9. Of Teardrops and Endings

**So sorry I haven't updated in AGES! After the last gossip girl episode, it felt weird writing about Chuck and Blair in a storyline that wasn't that. I cried like a baby when Chuck and Blair hugged, but I didn't know how to continue this story when the "real" Chuck and Blair were going through such painful issues. Anyway, here it is. PLEASE read and review!!!!!!! XOXO**

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Chuck was there within the hour. Dorota hadn't announced him, with her usual cry, distain masking the glee in her voice as she proclaimed "Mr. Chuck here to see you!" But Blair knew, as soon as the door to her room opened again, as soon as the air was heavy with the smell of his cologne. He sat down next to her, and she didn't lift her face from the pillow, didn't even move. She was suffocating, her face buried in silk, and she knew all she had to do was look at him and she'd be able to breathe again. But she didn't want to look. She didn't deserve him. Of this she was sure. Her mother's words rang in her ears. He'd leave her. She turned the idea over and over in her head, wondering how she could make it hurt less when it finally happened. Chuck sat down, and the mattress curved beneath her, absorbing his weight. "Blair," he said softly. He reached out hesitantly, stroking her arm, her hair, leaning down to press a kiss into the back of her head. Tears slid down Blair's cheeks for no reason, wetting the pillow beneath her, pressing their cool salt onto her face. _How had he become so whole, so healed?_ He had been broken when his father died, hollowed out. He had been broken long before that, too. And now he was here, staying with her, saying all the right things all the time, looking at her with love that she surely didn't deserve. And now she was bringing his child into the world, and she wasn't worthy. Maybe _she_ was broken, not good enough. Maybe she _was_ throwing her life away, and he'd leave her anyway, because he was _too_ good, _too _beautiful, _too_ healed to want her. A sob broke free from her tight throat, and a fresh wave of tears flowed into the already-damp silk of her pillow. She felt Chuck shift, swinging his legs up onto the side of the bed to lie down next to her. He pushed her hear away from her face, exposing one cheek, the rest of her face buried. He leaned down. "Blair?" He said again, the question evident in his voice. He brushed his lips – already close enough to her ear that he barely had to whisper – down to the hollow behind her ear, and kissed it softly, three times. He pulled away when she didn't move. "Blair, I'm sorry that Gossip Girl found out before you were ready. But it would have come out eventually." He paused. "It doesn't really have to change anything." How was it that those words, those exact words that Serena had said only hours ago, sounded so right on his lips? Her heart swelled with this realization. It would have come out eventually. This want't the worst thing in the world. It was far, far from the worst thing that could be happening to them. But just as quickly as the hope arose, warming her chest, making her palms tingle, a nagging, internal voice crushed it. _This is how it started. This is how it always started. One thing goes wrong, then another._ Her mother had called it, and so it would come. She was pregnant, and she'd become fat, fat with a baby, fat with responsibility he didn't want. It would push him over the edge – he'd leave. Worse, cheat. She didn't know if she could handle the pain. Not when she was carrying his baby. The seed that her mother had planted grew, twisting poisoned tendrils around her heart, and she was met with a fiery determination that went against everything her mind and heart were telling her. She'd end it. Suddenly she was sure she had to. She sat up suddenly, crazed with the agony of knowing that he'd leave her, utterly convinced she had to beat him to it. "Go away, Chuck," she said looking down at him, her voice icy, but quivering slightly. He sat up too, so they were face to face, and she could feel his hot breath on her cheeks. His lips parted in surprise, and she spoke before he had a chance to. "This isn't about Gossip Girl," she continued. "It's about us." His brow furrowed, suddenly, as if he realized what she was about to do. "Blair, stop." He said, his voice low, threatening. But his hand reached out for her elbow as if to steady her, his touch soft and reassuring. She shook it off, and it fell down to clutch her wrist, anchored there. _Why was he making this so hard?_ "Look, Chuck!" she said, shouting now, her body shaking with sharp, unexplained tremors. "You never planned to be a father! I know you don't want this, so I'm relieving you of your responsibilities. You are free. Free to be with other girls, free to leave and never see me again." His eyes locked into hers, and fire burned behind their dark surfaces. She dropped her eyes, unable to match the intensity of his gaze. His voice was soft, and the tenderness behind it surprised her. "Blair, what – " he stopped to regain his composure, and started again, agony seeping through his words. "What have I ever done to make you think I didn't want this? To make you think I didn't want you, or," he paused. "our baby?" Blair longed to tell him what her mother had said, but she felr a fresh wave of tears threaten to fall, and the most horrible words she could imagine bubbling up in her throat. She pushed the tears back, and let the words spill over. "You wouldn't know how to be a good father anyway." She saw the anger flash in his eyes the same moment his outstretched hand dropped from her twisting wrist. He was up before she had a second to realize what she had said, and she watched him leave, as if in slow motion, tracing patterns on the back of his jacket with her eyes, watched the door swing shut for the second time that day, and waited in the silence of the half a second before her world came crumbling down around her.


	10. Repercussions

The next morning, Blair awoke. Sunday, and they should have been finishing up their weekly breakfast already. She remembered before she felt the heaviness of her eyelids, the wetness of the pillow, signs she had cried herself to sleep. She remembered what she had said to him, the hurt, replaced with anger in his eyes, the desperation and fear in his voice as he had reached out to her, and she had pulled away. She had ruined it. So afraid he would leave, and somehow she had ended up leaving him. She racked her brain. How had it happened? She couldn't think of one good reason for why she had asked him to leave. Couldn't figure at why she hadn't spent every moment of her life up until this very day clinging on to him to make sure he'd never go. She remembered her mother's words, but instead of them stinging her, echoing in the cavern of her mind, they felt hollow, empty. They held no weight. She, Blair Waldorf had ruined it. Not Chuck Bass. He hadn't planned to leave her. Not ever. And she had hurt him because of something stupid and silly her bitter old mother had said. She had hurt him _again_. She got up slowly and looked in the mirror. Her heart ached. Her whole body ached for him, each muscle crying out to close the distance between them. She was a wreck, but she knew she had to go see him. Even with her eyes puffy and her hair tangled, she couldn't wait another minute. She was still in her nightgown, but she didn't have time to change. She threw on her pea coat, slipped on the first pair of flats she could find, and raced towards the elevator. When she got downstairs, she felt the cool morning air hit her. She shivered, stockingless in the cool of early April. She must look a sight, too, her three months pregnant belly swelling ever so slightly beneath the silk of her short nightgown. She hailed a cab quickly, and settled into the back seat. There was no traffic, and the taxi moved fast – too fast. What would she say when she arrived? What if he didn't take her back? The thought hit her like a tidal wave, sending cold fear washing over her skin, knocking the breath out of her. After all they'd been through – if this was how it was going to end…she pushed the thought out of her head and clutched the door handle in an effort to keep from fainting. The cab stopped, and she tossed a twenty at the driver, not bothering with change. She stepped out, letting the air hit her again, smoothing her dress against a breeze that played with the lace hem. The Palace loomed in front of her, and she felt her heart twitch in her chest, nearly stopping with fear. He was up there, in his suite, and the knowledge that she'd see him again, even if for the last time, kept her feet moving towards the lobby of the hotel.


	11. Open

She was at his door and knocking hard before she could figure out how she got there. She had meant to talk as soon as he opened the door, speak fast before he had a chance to tell her it was over, but the sight of him knocked the wind out of her, rendered her unable to speak. He looked pale and disheveled. His tie was loosened, a couple of buttons on his shirt undone, as if he'd slept in the same clothing he'd worn the day before. Blair recovered, searching desperately for words, but he spoke first. "I get it Blair," he said, voice raspy as if he'd been drinking heavily – or crying. "I get it, okay? You were emotional last night, but you made yourself pretty clear. You don't love me anymore. And it's over. You didn't have to come here to break up with me formally." For a second Blair was too stunned to speak, and then she regained her composure. "Chuck," she said, titling her chin up in an effort to stop the tears behind her eyes from falling. "I –I love you madly." His eyes lifted, and there was something unreadable in their dark depths. Something that looked – dare she hope? – like agony and joy. She reached for him, wanting to hold him, wanting to fix what she had broken, but her hand fell as soon as she raised it. She couldn't forget what she had done. There would be consequences. He would leave her. "I'm so sorry," she continued. "I don't want us to be over. If we're over, I feel like I might die." She expected him to sigh in exasperation at her dramatics, maybe even close the door in her face. She dropped her eyes, bracing herself for what was sure to come. Instead, she felt him reach out to her, gather her in his arms, pull her tight to his chest. He buried his head in her hair, and she felt his chest rise familiarly as he inhaled her scent. "God, Blair," he said, his voice breaking. "I had the worst night. I thought – " he paused as his voice broke, and Blair felt tears streaming onto her scalp. She shook her head in disbelief. He was crying in front of her, for the second time. "I thought I lost you. I wanted to die," he said, repeating her words. Blair felt a lump rising in her throat, and she pushed it back. "But what I said, Chuck. I thought you'd be so angry. I thought you'd want to leave." Chuck's body stiffened, and Blair held her breath. But he relaxed, his arms tightening around her. "Don't you get it, Blair?" he said. "It doesn't matter what you say to me. I'm hopelessly in love with you." He paused, as if for emphasis. "I will never leave you, no matter what. I couldn't. Not even if I wanted to." Blair sighed, letting the tension in her chest fly out in one quick breath. He was so good, and she was so horrible. And she didn't – never would – deserve him. But it didn't matter. She knew what he meant. No matter how scared she was that he'd leave, no matter how better off she thought he'd be without her, she was powerless to leave him. She couldn't be without him. She wanted to tell him this, to look into his eyes and tell him not to worry, it'd never happen again. She knew what it was to live in fear that he'd leave her. He shouldn't have to feel that way, ever. Instead, she buried his face deeper in his shoulder. "It's not true, Chuck. You're going to be an amazing father. I was hormonal. Really,_ really_ hormonal." He laughed, and took her by the shoulders, holding her at arms length. He studied her face carefully. "I know, Waldorf," he said, and kissed her quickly on the nose. _It wasn't enough_, Blair thought, shaking her head. She could never give him enough, never tell him enough times how much she loved him, how wonderful he was. But for now, it would have to do.


	12. Voice of Reason

_ Saturday morning_, Blair thought brightly as she awoke. Her second favorite ritual after Sunday morning breakfast with Chuck was undoubtedly Saturday morning shopping with Serena.

School hadn't been great lately. She was a laughingstock. She knew that. She had maintained her composure after the news of her pregnancy broke on Gossip Girl. Chuck and Serena had helped her do that. She was still the queen. That much was certain – Hazel, Iz, Penelope, Nelly – they all followed her everywhere, deferred to her about what to eat, where to go, who to talk to. But Blair knew that was mostly because of Serena. Serena, who they all wanted to be now that Blair had faltered. Serena who glared the girls down anytime they paid attention to anyone but Blair, herself included. Serena who was perfect and beautiful and didn't have the courage to tell Blair that they all snickered about her behind her back. It didn't matter. Blair knew.

She sighed, getting out of bed. At six months, it was getting hard for her to walk gracefully. She waddled pretty much everywhere. _Three months left_, she told herself every time someone looked sideways at her on the street, every time a teacher glanced curiously at her when they thought she wasn't looking. Blair Waldorf had been the perfect student, the perfect role model. The last one of whom they had expected this. _Only three more months. _

_ And still, Blair was a little sad that it would all be over soon. Not the stares, and the laughs. No, not that. But the feeling of a baby – Chuck's baby – heavy inside of her, the slight pressure she felt every time it moved, rippling her skin. She smiled and placed her hand on her bulging midsection, thinking about how excited Chuck had been the first time the baby hadkicked. He hadn't been there, but she'd called him, and he'd rushed over. Blair's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Serena burst into the room, a flurry of golden locks and sweet-smelling perfume._

"C'mon girl, let's go!" she shouted, wrapping her arms around Blair's shoulders. Blair laughed at her best friend's enthusiasm, and slithered out of her grip.

"I'm almost ready," she said sarcastically. "Hold your horses." Blair turned around shyly, and threw off her nightgown, slipping into a flowing cotton dress with tiny lavender flowers. She was shy about her figure, and didn't want her friend to see her bloated midsection, even though Chuck reminded her daily that she was more beautiful than ever. The dress billowed comfortably around her body, and Blair wiggled her shoulders, liking the feel of the fabric sliding across her stomach. She grabbed a jewel-encrusted silk headband from her dresser and slipped it onto her chestnut curls. She grinned into the mirror. From the chest up, she looked pretty good. Fantastic, even. Her cheeks glowed, her hair shone, and her bust – well, it spilled delightfully over her top for the first time in her life. _Chuck didn't mind that either_, she reminded herself. She felt Serena tug on her arm.

"Bellisima, Blair! Now let's GO!" she said, dragging her best friend out the door.

They hit the maternity stores first. A Pea in the Pod, then Mimi Maternity. Blair had to admit, there was some pretty decent stuff to be found if you looked hard enough. And at least there nobody stared at her. Blair stepped out of the dressing room in a shirt that said "Bun in the oven" over a picture of a stove. It was cheesy and tacky, but she had a feeling Chuck would get a kick out of it. Serena was waiting for her with a red lacy maternity lingerie set.

"How about this, B? To seduce my step-brother?" she said. Blair laughed, grabbing it out of Serena's hand and tossing it on a leather bench behind her.

"Yeah right. Between my out-of-control hormones and doubled cup size, I don't need _any_ help getting Chuck into bed these days." Serena made a face.

"TMI! I was joking, B. The phrase _scarred for life _comes to mind." Blair laughed and shoved her best friend.

"Sorry, S. Hey, let me buy this and we can get out of here. Go to some normal stores." Serena put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"We don't have to, B. How about ice cream instead?"

"Please, as if I don't weigh enough," Blair laughed. "Don't worry, I'll get something for when I'm skinny and fabulous again."

"You're always fabulous, girl." Serena said, wrapping an arm around her best friend and kissing the top of her head. "_always_."

Blair had barely entered Bendel's before the adrenaline kicked in. _Three months_, she repeated over and over again to herself, like some sort of religious chant. Three months and she could shop here for herself. The girls headed up to the dress department, where a saleslady accosted them. She took one look at Blair, made a sour face, and turned to Serena.

"Are you looking for anything in particular today, miss?" Serena smiled her most dazzling, golden-goddess smile.

"Just a wedding dress for my friend," she said, touching Blair's arm. "She needs a really good one on short notice." The saleslady frowned, embarrassed, and quickly left. Blair punched Serena lightly on the arm.

"Great. Now I can never come back here." Serena smiled, shaking her blonde locks. "God, I'm gonna miss freaking people out like that after you have the baby." Suddenly, her face turned serious.

"Speaking of which, have you and Chuck talked about what you're going to do once the baby is born? You know, about college and – just, _everything_?" Blair turned and absentmindedly pawed through a rack of dresses behind her, trying to keep her tone casual. They hadn't talked, and she worried about it every day.

"No, " she said lightly, "But I'm sure it'll work itself out."

"Blair," Serena said sternly, grabbing her friends hands so she'd stop looking at the clothing and look up at her. "You have to talk to him."

"I know I do," Blair said quietly. But that didn't make her any less terrified.


	13. Spoken

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm sososo sorry that the chapter before this one took me so long to put up. I'm a senior in high school, and I _just_ got done applying to colleges, so I was crazy busy. Anyway, I've started working on a sequel to this story, so if you want to read that one, make sure you get author alerts so you know when I start posting that one. As always, read and review, and I love you guys!**

**XOXO**

After their shopping trip, Blair went straight to the Palace. To Chuck. She knew she had to talk to him today. But that didn't mean right away, did it? They could have a little fun before she spoiled everything with talk of the future.

When Chuck opened the door she breezed past him and collapsed, belly-up on his bed, kicking off her shoes.

"I'm so _exhausted,_" she moaned. Chuck shut the door and walked over to her, then sat down on the bed by her feet. He picked one foot up in his hand and began massaging it gently. Blair propped herself up on her elbows. "You don't have to do that, you know," she said. But secretly, she didn't mind. Her feet had only grown one size during her pregnancy – to a still-petite 7.5 – but they ached nearly all the time.  
She let out a low moan as a kneaded a particularly sore muscle. Chuck paused, and looked up to meet her eyes, a wicked grin spreading over his handsome face. He dropped her foot. "Don't stop," Blair pouted. "It feels good." Chuck's grin widened, and he crawled up to where she lay.  
"I can think of something the would feel better," he said, tracing a finger from her cheek to her chin, then letting his hand drop to her chest. Blair's resistance broke, and she reached up to stroke his hair, and then pulled him down for a kiss. Chuck lay by her side, leaning slightly over body so that their lips met evenly. His body was twisted, and Blair thought fleetingly that he might be uncomfortable. But there was nothing she could do about it. She lay unmoving, like a beached whale. Still, having sex with Chuck made her feel like anything but a fat pregnant girl. He moaned roughly, as if reading her mind. She grinned with satisfaction into his mouth. He still found her sexy. And lately, she'd been finding him sexier than ever. If that was even possible.  
He shifted his weight so that he was by her side, kissing his way from her ear to her neck, down her shoulder. She turned slightly to face him. Lately he was doing all the work, moving so she didn't have to. But pregnant sex wasn't nearly as awkward as she'd imagined. She wondered if it was as good for him as it was for her. It was _so _good for her.  
Chuck rolled on top of her enthusiastically, as if in response to her thoughts. He propped himself up on his elbows to keep the weight off her stomach, slipping the dress off of her shoulders and burying kisses in her plunging cleavage. Blair shimmied the dress down further, then let him take over, pulling it down over her stomach, letting it slide off her hips. When he was done, he smirked at her, satisfied with his work. She reached up and pushed the long bangs off his face. God, she loved those bangs. Chuck leaned with one arm on the bed, quickly sliding off his pants, and he was inside her before she was ready. She gasped, but her body adjusted quickly, and she sunk back into the mattress, letting the pleasure take over. He always went slowly these days, afraid to hurt the baby, even thought the doctor had assured him time and again that he couldn't.

When they finished, he rolled off of her, and lay flat on his back beside her, taking her hand. They lay in silence for a couple of minutes, and Blair could sense that he was falling asleep. _Rip the bandage off, Blair_. _Now or Never._ "Chuck," she said, jiggling his hand with hers gently. He opened his eyes and smiled at her, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. She grinned widely. "Go to sleep, Blair," he said, his voice groggy. "Geez, I can't even wear you out anymore." Blair turned over on her side as best she could. "Chuck, we need to talk."

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_ It could have gone worse,_ Blair thought to herself as she walked back to her apartment. _Much worse._ Walking cleared her mind, and smiled as she soaked up the moist spring air, the envious stares of little girls. If there was one group of people she could count on to stare at her with wonder and not disgust, it was little girls.  
She tried to remember herself at five, six, seven. She had dreams then. Dreams that involved becoming Mrs. Nathaniel Archibald, Having _his _children some day. Her dusty girlhood dreams had grown brighter as she and Nate got closer to their future, the images in her head filling in with vivid, glossy, color. And then there was Chuck. He wiped her dreams off the table with a quick sweep of the arm, replacing the old pictures with new ones. She quickened her pace. _Yes,_ she thought with determination. Their talk had gone quite well. She shivered. Everything was going so much better than expected. Not that she would have expected any of this. Five years ago, she would have been horrified. Today she was – well, happy.

_ "I'm glad you brought it up," _Chuck had said. _"I've been thinking about it for a long time_._" Blair laughed.  
"You? Thinking? I can't imagine it." _But she could imagine it – the furrow that would appear between his thick brows, the unconscious biting of his full lower lip.  
_ She kissed him before he had a chance to offer protest to her gentle teasing. He smiled.  
"Seriously, Blair. If -" he paused. "_When_ you get into Yale, you should go. Baby or no baby. It's your dream."_ Going into the conversation, Blair hadn't known what she'd wanted. But at the moment the words had left his mouth, she was sure of what she needed.  
_ "No, Chuck,"_ she had said, shaking her head fervently, her brown curls dancing lightly over her shoulders. _"I don't want to leave you. I can't." Chuck smiled his devilish smile, and took a curl in his hand, playing with it, turning it over in his fingers.  
"Then don't," he said softly._ _"Let me come to Yale with you. I'm sure I could get in if I pulled a few strings." He laughed, sarcasm creeping into his voice. "I am the richest kid in New York, after all." _ _Blair shook her head in disbelief.  
"Let you?" she said, incredulous. "Of course you can come! I was afraid you wouldn't want to!" Chuck dropped her hair and shook his head, laughing.  
"And I was afraid you'd want your space." He sighed. "We really should talk about these things instead of worrying what the other is thinking. We're always an the same wavelength anyway." Blair laughed and fell back onto the mattress, satisfied. Suddenly, she sat up.  
"The baby," she said._ _She had almost forgotten, so happy that he would come with her – that he wouldn't want to stay at home with his father's business, and his skyscrapers and hotels._ _Chuck smiled again.  
"I thought of that one too," he said. "I found us an apartment. It's right near campus, and I'm pretty sure they'll make an exception and let us live off campus freshman year. I mean, we'd have to hire a nanny, and maybe take classes at odd hours so one of us could always be home with the baby at night but – What's wrong?" he said suddenly. Blair hadn't realized that her brow was furrowed into a frown, and at his reminder, her face relaxed.  
"Nothing," she said, laughing. "I was just wondering when we got it all together. When – when we became so _good_ at being _us_."_ _Chuck reached up and took her chin in his hand, kissing her lips gently.  
"It won't be easy, Waldorf." Blair smiled. "It wouldn't be us if it was."_


	14. Decisions, Decisions

**Dear Readers, I know I've been terrible about updating. i HAVE been having technical problems with internet connection, and fanfiction being weird, etc. But still, there's no excuse. Here's a long-ish one to make up for it. COMMMENT please! Say anything. Feel free to complain about the show's loooong hiatus, or the Nate+Blair photos that have been leaked. I'd love to hear your opinions on my story, or just gg and CB in general! XOXO **

March 30th. Blair was 7 months pregnant – almost exactly – and she was pretty sure she was hyperventilating. Was it unhealthy for the baby that she be this stressed? She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She had one hour. One hour till midnight. She didn't know if her body could handle 60 more minutes. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth fourteen times, then took her pulse again. No change. _Serena should be here_, she thought reaching for her phone. She pulled her hand back. _No, _she chastised herself. _That's selfish, Blair. _Serena should be with her family today. They'd want to hear if she got into Yale. _When she gets into Yale_, Blair mentally corrected herself. Of course Serena would get in. The Dean had practically told her there'd be a spot reserved. Blair sighed and reached for her phone. There was nothing for Serena to worry about today. For Blair, there was everything. Lily would understand. As if on cue, Blair heard a soft knock on the door. She turned just in time to see her best friend slip in quietly.

"Surprise!" Serena said in her best sing-songy voice. "I figured we could both use some moral support!" Blair looked her friend up and down. She was holding a box of Godiva chocolates, and three of Blair's favorite Audrey Hepburn movies. Blair scoffed.

"No, Serena, you figured _I _could use some moral support. _You_ practically have your dorm picked out on campus." Serena rolled her eyes, and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

"That's ridiculous, B! I'm waiting to hear just as much as you are. Watch, you'll probably get in and I'll be – " she paused, trying to think of the worst thing that could happen. "I'll be waitlisted!" she concluded. Blair shuddered. _Waitlisted. _A fate worse than death. Blair reached over and grabbed the movies out of Serena's hands, tossing them onto her bed.

"I can't focus on _Roman Holiday_ today, Serena. My whole _life _depends on this moment. And even Gregory Peck can't distract me from that." Serena rolled her eyes at her friend's dramatics.

"Fine then let's talk," she said in her most reasonable, _Blair is crazy_ tone of voice. "Starting with what you just said. Listen, B. Your whole life does _not_ depend on this. That's a really unhealthy attitude. What about Dartmouth? Or Cornell? You loved Cornell when you visited! I'm sure you'll get in!"Blair shook her head fervently, trying to think of words to make her carefree best friend understand.

"If I get into Yale and he doesn't, I won't go." Serena stared at her friend in disbelief, but Blair continued. "It's not like I have a choice!" Blair said, feeling tears burn behind her eyes. "I know you probably expected that we'd leave the baby with Eleanor and Cyrus but –" she broke off, determination gathering in her voice. "We're not. We're going to raise it while we go to college. Together." Serena shook her head slowly.

"No, Blair. I totally get it. And I'm proud. And I'll help out in any way I can. But are you really prepared to give up your dreams if Chuck doesn't get into Yale?" Blair smiled, but tears crept out of the corners of her eyes. "Well, it wouldn't be ideal, but -" she laughed. "yeah, I totally am, S. There's no one else I'd do it for but him." Serena smiled, and pulled Blair into a hug. She drew back quickly, glancing over at the computer screen Blair was seated in front of. _12:00 am. _

_ "_Go time. Do you want to go first?" Serena said hesitantly. Blair shook her head. If Blair wasn't getting in, she didn't want to know that for sure when Serena opened her acceptance email. "Okay," Serena said, taking a deep breath. She logged into her Gmail account quickly, plum-coated fingernails flying adeptly over the white keys of Blair's Macbook. Blair held her breath as Serena's emails popped up on the webpage. _Seven schools. Seven unread messages._ Serena took another deep breath, and clicked into the one from Brown.

_Dear Ms. VanderWoodson, __Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that… _

Blair breathed a sigh of relief. Even she was nervous for her friend. Serena grinned widely.

"My mom is going to be so, so happy!" She said, her voice high with excitement. Blair squeezed her shoulder.

"S? I think you should open the one that'll make _you_ happy." Serena looked seriously at her friend, mouse hovering over the remaining six emails on her screen. _Boston College, Cornell, Dartmouth, UCLA, University of Michigan. Yale._ "Oh, for God's sake, Serena!" Blair cried, trying to keep her tone light. "You're making me crazy!" She maneuvered the mouse over the word – her favorite word in the entire English language – _Yale_, and clicked.

_Dear Ms. VanderWoodson, Congratulations! We are delighted to inform you that we are offering you a place in Yale's class of 2013!_

A squeal of delight escaped Blair's lips. It was hard not to be happy for Serena, even though her own palms were sweating, and her heart was beating out of control. She threw her arms around Serena and buried her face in her friend's sweet-smelling blonde hair.

"You did it!" she cried. Serena extracted herself from Blair's hug and looked her best friend in the eye, a grin creeping over the serious look on her face. Blair didn't blame her. She'd be grinning too.

"Blair, that's it. I don't care about the rest. Let's check yours." Blair reluctantly signed out of Serena's email account and into her own. _One email._ She could feel a sharp intake of breath behind her. "Blair, please tell me – " Blair shrugged, and turned to Serena.

"Chuck didn't apply anywhere in January, because he was gong through so much with his father's death. And Yale was the only place that would accept his application late – you know, on account of who is dad was. So yeah, I withdrew my applications to all my other schools."Serena shook her head.

"Please tell me you didn't! Blair, does your mother know? " Now it was Blair's turn to shake her head fervently, sending her chestnut curls flying around her face.

"She'll have to understand. I wouldn't go away to college and leave him here. And if I get into Yale and he doesn't, well – " she paused. "I'll just have to put college on the shelf for a while. I'm going to inherit my mother's clothing line some day," she said, talking fast so Serena couldn't protest. "I don't really need school." Serena shook her head slowly.

"You are something else, Blair Cornelia Waldorf. Now open the Goddamn email!" Blair positioned her finger above the mouse and clicked. One click, and the fate of her life would be decided.

_Dear Ms. Waldorf,_

Blair scanned the email quickly. The world swirled around her, colors blurred, and she couldn't feel her friend's hand on her shoulder, or the voice in her ear. She couldn't even feel her own heart beating. It might have stopped. And then, just like that, the dizziness receded. She read the letter again, and then once more, tears forming in the corners of her eyes and spilling over her cheeks before she could wipe them away.

_ Dear Ms. Waldorf, _

_ Congratulations! _

She laughed, and the room wasn't spinning anymore, and Serena was squealing in her ear, and she was on her feet, hands clasping her best friend's hands, and they were jumping around the room, laughing and hugging and crying, and it was all Blair could do not to faint onto the plush carpeting of her bedroom floor. And then, before she could hear Dorota's echoing cries of "Ms. Blair!", the door to her room swung open, and Chuck was standing there, an unreadable emotion in his dark eyes, staring at his step-sister and the girl he loved, his face terrifyingly still.

Blair froze. She dropped Serena's hands, her body like ice. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.

"Chuck – " she managed to choke out. He shook his head. The motion was almost imperceptible, but to Blair, it meant everything. He hadn't gotten in. A sob escaped from her lips, and through blurred eyes, she saw his face shift, and – was she seeing right? – a wide grin spread across his stoic features.

"I got it, Blair," he said, not moving from her doorway. "I got into fucking Yale!"

Serena watched the scene as if in slow motion, her body frozen next to her best friend's. And then, like a damn breaking over a frozen stream, like a newborn star erupting into flame in the hollow eternity of space, Blair was running to Chuck, a blur of brown curls, and the she was on him, hands clutching his neck, legs wrapped around his waist. He staggered back, unprepared for the speed of her reaction, the flood of emotion she released. Her tiny hands pumped fists onto his chest, and she was screaming through her tears, barely intelligible curses escaping her perfect crimson lips. He laughed at how ineffectual her fury was, and let her continue to attack him. "Chuck how dare you!" She was screaming, practically choking on tears of fury and joy.

"God I'll - I should – you're dead, Chuck!" He waited patiently, laughing silently at Blair – _his_ Blair, flustered for the first time in her life, hair tangled, cheeks red, legs wound around his torso, her pregnant belly pushing up against the flat abs of his stomach. She was holding on so tightly even as she pushed at his chest, pulled at his hair, kicking and thrashing at him. And finally, it was over as suddenly as it started, and she was quiet in his arms, her head pressed up against his chest, tears flowing freely, soaking through his white button-down shirt. He pressed his thumbs against her cheeks, trying to suppress his laughter, wiping her tears as fast as they fell. He looked up. Serena had slipped out somehow, unnoticed.

"I hate you," Blair murmured quietly into his chest. He adjusted her so that he held her in his arms, cradling her like a bride, and sat down slowly on her bed.

"I love you," he said into her hair. "God, I love you, Blair Waldorf."


	15. Beginnings

**This will be the second to last chapter. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE review!! And as I said before, subscribe to me as an author if you want to check out the sequel!!! (This'll be a trilogy:) ) Love you all, thanks for reading and reviewing!! **

Graduation and the birth of their baby. And it was a countdown to see which came first. Graduation was the June 19th. The child was due on the 20th.  
Blair secretly hoped she'd go into labor the morning of graduation. She didn't want to have to stand in front of her teachers, the parents of her friends, and give a valedictorian speech in her condition, didn't want to have to face their disapproving stares, or feel the tug of her billowy graduation gown pulling over her 9 months pregnant stomach. They hadn't made a special maternity one for her. Apparently the company wasn't capable of that.  
The day before her graduation, Blair stood in front of her full-length mirror, examining her tremendous stomach in the reflection. How big was a baby anyway? She moved her palm up and down the smooth roundness of the surface. She looked like a globe. She didn't care. She kissed the palm of her hand, and then pressed it firmly to her belly button.  
"_I love you,_ _mini-Chuck,_" she whispered. "_please come out soon so I won't have to graduate._"The next morning, Blair got ready slowly, hoping to feel the first pains of labor before it was too late. At 8:00 am, Chuck's limo was downstairs. Eleanor had reluctantly agreed to let Chuck drive Blair, Dorota, Cyrus, and herself to graduation, and Blair thought that being late would be pushing it. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to do. _I don't care what anybody thinks,_ she repeated to herself over and over again. _I don't care_.

Chuck held her hand the whole limo ride, rubbing circles on her palm with his thumb. She smiled, thinking of how she'd kissed that palm the night before, sending love to their baby. Once or twice Eleanor caught her eye sternly, but Blair ignored it, choosing to glance over at Cyrus, who was smiling broadly.

Before she knew it, Blair was on stage, her classmates seated behind her, in front of her, a podium displaying her carefully rehearsed speech. She knew that some of the parents in the audience had protested, saying that Blair Waldorf set a terrible example for the younger students. But rules were rules, Headmistress Queller had said. Valedictorian gives the graduation speech. Blair cleared her throat nervously, feeling sweat begin to form where her forehead met her perfect updo. She was reminded suddenly of a speech Chuck had given what felt like ages ago. One that he had made up when he was "inspired in the moment." She flipped her pre-rehearsed speech over so she wouldn't be tempted by it. _Inspired in the moment_. She began.

"I've made so many mistakes," she began, her voice shaky.  
A nervous twitter went through the crowd, and Blair could see the headmistress whisper something in the ear of the man sitting next to her, confused and concerned. Blair turned around quickly to glance at her classmates, searching for a reassuring pair of eyes. She found Chuck's. He smiled at her, and she turned back to the audience, her voice steady.

"I've made so many mistakes," she continued. "And still, I feel so fortunate to be standing here in front of you, representing my class – the class I met in kindergarten, at a school I love so much." She paused. "I'm going to Yale next fall. I decided I was going to Yale when I was five years old." The crowd laughed, and this time there was no harsh edge, nothing mocking in the eyes of the audience. Blair's eyes filled with tears. Goddamn hormones. "That's about the only thing in my life that's gone according to plan." More laughter. "If I could give one piece of advice to the rising seniors, I would tell them that it's okay if things don't always go according to plan. I would tell them that even the parts that we didn't plan for usually turn out alright in the end." "I'm terrified to go out into the real world. I'm terrified and I have no idea what I'm doing _so _much of the time. But - " she looked around again at her classmates, at girls she'd shared secrets with, girls she'd tortured, and girls who'd tortured her those few times she'd missteped, and come crashing down from her pedestal. "I can't image a place that's better prepared me – better prepared all of us – for the challenges, the difficulties, and the wonderful times that are yet to come, in college, and beyond."  
Blair stopped to catch her breath. The crowd was silent, and someone started to applaud, perhaps ironically. It didn't matter. Slowly, the applause picked up. Blair was dumbfounded. It had been a little short, but it was over – she'd said all she needed to say. The tears blurring her vision spilled over. They didn't hate her. They were giving her a standing ovation. She backed up and found her seat as gracefully as possible.  
Chuck had switched chairs with Isabelle Coates during her speech so that he would be seated next to Blair, and his hand found hers when she sat down. He squeezed it tight, and she squeezed back. The next hour was a blur. There had been a couple more speeches, and Blair had spaced out, breathing in the relief of being done, feeling Chuck's warm hand around her own. When they called him up for his diploma, he let go reluctantly, and when he returned he held it tightly until they called her name. They were separated when they stood up for the last time as seniors, and Serena pushed through the crowd to hug Blair, leaning over her friend's enormous belly to kiss her on the cheek. His hand found hers again when they threw their caps in the air, and when hers came down too far away for her to reach, he placed his gently on her head.

It was afterwards, when the graduates were chatting with family and friends in the courtyard of Constance, posing for pictures and laughing, that Blair felt a stabbing pain run through her torso, like every muscle was clenching, tight. Her breath caught in her throat and she squeezed Chuck's hand harder than she thought possible. He didn't even have to look at her to know. _Perfect timing_, Blair thought to her baby as Chuck dragged her towards her mother and stepfather. _Wait till just _after_ I get done giving the most terrifying speech of my life. You're a little late._ Before she knew it, Eleanor had one of her elbows, and Chuck had the other, one arm extended to part the crowd. Serena followed close behind. They paused outside the limo so Blair could catch her breath, and when she was ready Chuck opened the door and guided her in. As she ducked down to crawl inside, she felt his breath on her ear. _ "_

_ Don't worry Blair, you're going to be amazing." _And she thought those words Serena had said to her just two months ago, when whether or not she got into Yale seemed like the most important thing. _Okay, Blair. Go time._

_ Breathe in, breathe out_. Blair reminded herself, eyes scanning the lobby of the hospital for Chuck. How had he gotten upstairs so quickly? As their limo had pulled up to the hospital entrance, Chuck had given her hand a final squeeze, kissed her temple, and bounded out of the car before Blair could drop her jaw in surprise. Cyrus had one elbow and Serena the other, and she leaned heavily on them for support, while Eleanor scurried ahead of them to an elevator, pressing the button a couple of more times than necessary. When the doors opened, Chuck was there, pacing back and forth next to a young nurse, ready with a wheelchair for Blair and a terrified look on her face.

"_Well,_"Chuck growled into the nurse's ear "Help her into it!" Blair bit her lip, pressing back a giggle. So this was why Chuck had raced upstairs. To ready the entire maternity wing for her arrival. She could see why the nurse found him scary. He was practically crackling with energy – the pacing, the edge to his voice. He looked a sight too, pale, his shock of dark hair a mess from running his fingers through it over and over again. The giggle escaped her lips. Hardly terrifying. He looked terrified. Blair collapsed into the wheelchair as another contraction ripped through her body. Chuck broke his steely glare at the nurse and fell to his knees by Blair's side. She squeezed his hand, hard, again, and he didn't flinch. When she could breathe again, Chuck sat up and took the handles of the wheelchair, pushing her swiftly towards the waiting area. Dr. Hill was there already, looking the picture of calm patience, clipboard in hand. No doubt she had already been warned by several nurses and receptionists of Chuck's present state.

"Blair!" She said, gently sliding Chuck's iron grip off the handles of the wheelchair. "You look wonderful. Let me take you to your room and we'll see how many centimeters dilated you are, so I can tell you how long it'll be before baby time." Blair gave a hesitant smile. _Baby time._ Her mother, Cyrus and Serena had fallen back to sit in the waiting area, and when she turned she received three reassuring, if not anxious smiles. Chuck, relieved of his duty with the wheelchair, clenched and unclenched his fists behind Blair, and then settled for shoving them deep into the pockets of his suit-pants. Again, Blair suppressed a laugh. She was nervous, sure. But Chuck was a wreck.

_ Three centimeters dilated. _Three measly centimeters. Blair huffed angrily. Her hair was already matted with sweat, her heart was thudding loudly in her chest, and Chuck's pacing by her bedside wasn't helping her nerves. Once Dr. Hill had left the room, Blair let out an angry sigh. "_Think dilated!_" She had said, her voice chipper, as usual. _Easier said than done._

"Chuck!" Blair said, aware that she was about to take her frustration out on him, and well beyond caring. He stopped pacing and stared at her intently, frozen in place, as if afraid to breathe. She rolled her eyes. "Chuck! What the hell?" He was at her side quickly.

"Blair? Blair, are you in pain?" Normally she would have found the worry in his voice, the question in his eyes, touching, but today, right now, it made her want to smack him. She _knew_ he was wonderful, and she _knew _he was scared and trying to be supportive. But he was also the one who had done this to her. He was the reason she was lying helpless on her back, fat and uncomfortable, and hours away from being in the worst agony of her life. Briefly, and for no reason at all, images of Chuck flashed in front of her. His back, the wide plane between his broad shoulders, turning from her, leaving her over and over again. Something inside her chest softened. No, this wasn't the worst pain. He was here, and so it was far, far from the worst. She reached for his hand, wanting to tell him it would be all right, but she couldn't banish the edge from her voice.

"No Chuck, I'm not in pain – right now. But I'm hot, and I feel gross, and I'm tired of waiting and I'm – I'm scared." His face was inches from hers, and he leaned down to press a kiss into her scalp. She cringed, thinking of how matted it was, how sweaty she must be from the strain of contractions. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. Suddenly she was struck by a desire to reach up and smooth out the wrinkles in his forehead, push the creases from the edges of his worried eyes. There was something behind their worried depths, she realized. Something deeper. She was not in pain at the moment, but he was.

"Blair - " he began, his voice shaky. "Blair, my mother – " and then it hit her. His mother. The only other birth he'd been associated with. His own. Her hand was shaking in his before she realized it, and she gripped his hand hard to gain control. He continued. "I love you Blair. You need to know that. I'm terrified of losing you, and I love you and – " his voice steadied, and Blair could feel his determination rise. "If it comes down to the baby or you, I'll choose you."  
Blair breathed in sharply, and although she knew that Chuck's fear was magnifying the slimmest of chances that something could go wrong into something huge, she felt the sudden need to set him straight.

"Shut up, Chuck," she said, quietly, dropping his hand. "Don't say that. I'll kill you if you say that." She placed a protective hand over her belly – the hand that had, moments earlier, been cupped in his own. "It's not going to come to that. Your mother – that's so rare. But if it does," she said steadying her shaking voice. "You will choose correctly. You will _not _choose me." It was an order. One she hoped he would obey should anything go wrong.  
Dr. Hill entered, and Chuck stood suddenly.

"Check her," he ordered, his tone harsh. "See how many centimeters." Dr. Hill smiled, clearly amused at Chuck's cloying worry. Blair was struck by a sudden urge to shove the woman, but a cold, metallic sensation between her legs silenced her thoughts.

"Six centimeters," Dr. Hill said, lifting her head to glance up at Blair with a proud smile. "Looks like you'll be ready to push within the hour!" Chuck breathed a heavy sigh – of relief or anxiety, Blair couldn't tell. She looked up, and he was pacing again. Blair took a deep breath, trying to stop the room from spinning.  
_ Within the hour. _

_ Ten centimeters, and Blair was genuinely concerned Chuck was going to have a panic attack. _Did he normally breathe so loudly? Shouldn't someone get him a bag if he was hyperventilating? A spasm shook her midsection, banishing all thoughts of Chuck. She let out a stifled cry. She was supposed to be pushing. She wondered fleetingly why it still hurt. Had the cocktail of drugs Chuck had ordered her done nothing?  
_ Baby, _she thought, blocking out Dr. Hill's forced encouragements and cries of _Push, Blair, push!_ All the motivation she needed was inside her._ Her baby. _She gave a push – was this number 27 or 29? One of the nurses had thought it would help to count. She felt the weakness behind the action, knew she had to give it more than that, but she couldn't find more strength in her body.  
_ So close._ And the room was swimming around her, sounds and colors blurring. She felt her eyes roll back in her head. Was it possible to faint during childbirth? A machine beeped next to her, tracking her heart rate. It sounded too fast – no, too slow. And suddenly, she couldn't hear it anymore. Only Chuck's voice in her ear. She turned her head to the side. He was ducked down beside her, dark hair obscured by a mint green hospital cap. She almost laughed at this. Normally he wouldn't be caught dead in one. His lips were moving, but what was he saying?  
The room was suddenly silent, and she heard his whispers as if they were the only two people alive in a universe echoing with its emptiness. _"You can do it Blair, I know you can." _Simple words, and they reverberated in her mind, twisting and blending with the other sounds in the room, the hurried movement of nurses, the escalating cries of  
"_Push Blair, I see the head!_"And she pushed, putting the weight of her entire existence behind it, the pain turning white hot behind her eyes, dissolving into the stillness until all she could see was blackness.  
The room was empty. Was it over? Had she missed it all? She turned her head to and fro, trying to pick out a cue from the silence, – anything to tell her what had happened. And there he was. Chuck. _Her_ Chuck. Only he wasn't in scrubs anymore, and the cap was gone from his head. He was dressed in a white button down shirt and black slacks, and there was a glow around him, a slight blurring of the light behind his shoulders that made him seem otherworldly.  
Tears glistened in his eyes, and she reached up instinctively to wipe them away. Her hand dropped when she realized that he was speaking to her, muttering the same phrase over and over again. _"I'll choose you, Blair. I'll choose you."_ And then she was moving backwards, tunneling away form him, before she could grab his hand or even scream his name.  
Her ears filled with winds, blocking out his words, and silence poured into her, stifling her, rendering her unable to cry out. And then a sound – the most beautiful sound in the entire world broke through the silence, cut straight to Blair's heart, and she wasn't moving anymore, wasn't tunneling through the darkness to a light that was all at once sinister and beautiful.

_ A cry_, _thin and sharp. _And she was back in the hospital room, covered in sweat, and the noises were back with her, voices swirling around her head, and she could pick them out again, distinguish between them.

_ "Her blood pressure dropped, and she blacked out for a second." _The nurse with the pink scrubs.

_ "Take the baby, check and make sure it's getting enough air."_ Dr. Hill, still optimistic despite the panic Blair could sense in the room.

_ "What's going on? Is she okay?"_ Chuck. Chuck. ChuckChuckChuck. She'd know that voice anywhere.  
Blair's eyes opened, and he was there, filling her vision, in the silly green scrubs again. She scanned the room for what was more important – for what might not be safe, might not be breathing. She felt as though the air was being sucked out of her again. Her baby.  
Dr. Hill caught her eye, and was by her side.

"Blair? Blair? Everything is okay. You passed out, but you're all right. Can you hear me?" Blair nodded weakly.

"Where's my baby? " her voice was hoarse, unrecognizable, and she reached up in surprise to clutch at the smooth skin of her throat. Dr. Hill was gone, and Chuck replaced her by Blair's side, stroking her hair, choking out her name, voice thick with tears.  
And then Dr. Hill was beside them again, a white bundle in her arms. Blair looked up, unable to speak, unable to breathe. The baby. _Her baby. _"Everything looks fine. She's healthy and beautiful." A gasp escaped Blair's lips. A girl. She had a daughter. Chuck tore his eyes from Blair and stood slowly, his lips forming a surprised "O." Blair laughed at the look on his face. Chuck Bass had a daughter. Her heart filled at the sight of father and child as Chuck reached out hesitantly for the tiny bundle. A tear slid down Blair's cheek, and she was captured by an emotion more powerful than anything she'd ever felt before.  
Chuck was cradling the baby in one arm, the fingers of his other arm hovering hesitantly over the swaddled body, the tiny squished face. There was something so familiar in those dancing fingers, his light, hesitant touch. It was the same one he used on her. Adoring and afraid. Blair watched as he leaned down to the sleeping child, and saw his lips move. He spoke too softly for her to hear, but she knew those lips, had seen them form those three words enough to know exactly what they looked like saying them.

_ "I love you." _

And then Blair was reaching for her baby, and Chuck was glancing up, blinking as if woken from a deep sleep, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. He leaned down and placed the baby in her arms, moving slowly, with more deliberate care and tenderness than she thought him capable of.  
He pressed a kiss onto her cheek, but she barely felt it. The little girl was in her arms, eyes squinting up at her, then fluttering closed again. _This_, Blair thought, _this is the reason I'm alive._  
She saw herself in the tiny face, her nose and her cheeks and her lips, saw everything good and beautiful about herself that she had never seen before. And she loved herself in that moment, for making this baby, for creating something so good and pure.  
Her arms tightened around the bundle they held, flexing instinctively. She loved this baby already, with more ferocity than she had ever known. She would let it know, every day, how much she loved it. She looked up at Chuck, and he was gazing down at her, eyes brimming with tears.

"Chuck," she choked out.

"Blair," was all he could muster in return. It was all she needed.


	16. Epilogue

**A/N: Last chapter! LoveYa all, thanks for reading! PLEASE REVIEW, tell me what you thought of the story as a whole :) tune into the sequel!!!!**

**XOXO**

Serena held the baby gingerly, being careful to support the head, as Chuck had reminded her to do seven times in the last minute. She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on the sleeping baby's impossibly small cheek.

"I love you Isabella Evelyn Bass," she said quietly. "And I'm going to be the best aunt ever."

She felt a hand on the small of her back and turned to see Chuck, arms outstretched for his daughter, again. She tucked the tiny girl into the crook of her father's arm and examined her step-brother's face carefully. He looked so happy. So proud. She couldn't look at him without smiling.

Eric and Lily entered the room cautiously. Eric was holding flowers, which he handed to a beaming Blair, propped up in her hospital bed.

"_Isabella Bass,_" Lily whispered, shaking her head. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day."

Chuck glanced up briefly to scowl at his step-mother, but his face softened when the infant in his arms let out a satisfied mewing sound. He passed the baby to her mother and reached out to hug Lily. _What the hell_, he thought. He was bursting with love as it was.

The small group moved into the hall when a nurse came for Isabella to take her into the glass-walled nursery so a doctor could give her a final checkup. Chuck lingered behind, helping Blair get up from her hospital bed. She was so beautiful. So much more beautiful than he imagined her to be every time he closed his eyes.

She blushed when she noticed him looking at her, remembering what a mess her hair was, how she had washed her makeup off with the cool towel a nurse had offered her right after the delivery.

"Stop that," she said swatting at Chuck's arm lightly. "Don't look at me like you're thinking about something." Chuck's gaze remained serious.

"I don't deserve to end up this happy," he said quietly. Blair rolled her eyes.

"Of course you do, Bass. You just didn't forsee it."

At this, Chuck smiled. "I'm going to be the best father," he said, offering an arm when Blair stood weakly. She leaned on him, pressing her cheek to his shoulder, and he ducked down to kiss the top of her head. He loved how easily his lips could graze her hair. She was the perfect height. "I'm going to kill any guy that comes near her," Chuck added. Blair laughed.

"So I guess that means you won't be offering up your limo to her dates? Shame, we had so much fun in it." At this Chuck blanched. "If any guy tries _anything_ with her in a moving vehicle – I'll – I'll fight each and every one of them off her with my bare hands."

Blair laughed harder, then her expression mellowed as she looked up into Chuck's dark eyes. "She'll be beautiful, you know, if she looks anything like you. You're going to have quite a job ahead of you," she sighed.

Chuck swallowed, thinking of Blair and their first time in his limo, the roses behind her cheeks, the easy curl of her hair. God, she was beautiful. _Karma's a bitch_, he thought savagely to himself as he steadied a wobbly Blair, carefully angling her towards the door. She sighed a contented little breath onto his chest, and he felt his heart swell against her lips as they slowly made their way to the nursery. To their daughter, their future.


End file.
